Cocksure Persistence
by I'maMePanda
Summary: Ezra knows he has Trier in the palm of his hand. If Josiah weren't so immensely stubborn this case could easily be wrapped up within the week. A Far From Home 'verse story, set pre Ezra switch. Contains spanking(fairly mild).


A/N: Hey everybody! Been a bit I know, I've been writing a lot (and reading a lot, any of you all read anything by Becky Chambers?), but this is the first thing I've finished :) Just a short really, but a very fun one to write. It started out with text post inspiration, the pic you see by the title :) It started out with me and MamaBear basically emailing those random phrases to each other in increasingly silly ways (I believe one exchange was *walks on stage* "The wolves are coming." *drops mic* *slowly moonwalks backwards until gone* and *nods sagely* "Just as the prophecy foretold." Far funnier to us than anyone else, I'm sure. Then suddenly a few at the end had context, and next thing I knew I was challenging myself to write a story with all the lines-I did not quite succeed. Two didn't make it in, but since I think the story is better for it, I was satisfied :) I hope you guys enjoy it!

*.*.*.*.*

*.*.*.*.*

Ezra stared stubbornly down at the white paper that had been almost smacked down in front of him, Josiah's blocky handwriting taunting him across the top of the page. The undercover agent maintained that Josiah was responding to their previous conversations with far more emotion than the situation warranted. No, Mr. Larabee was not here to sign off on his request, but for something of this importance he saw it as simply logical to go above him to A.D Travis.

Eyes shifting, Ezra regarded the doorway looming across from him with disdain. Josiah seemed to think Ezra planned to lead the sagacious head of their agency, a man who had been one of the most respected judges in the state for nearly two decades, into believing erroneous information about the danger associated with moving ahead at this stage. Truly, it stung.

That Ezra and Mr. Sanchez viewed the level of danger as being in two entirely different planes of existence and that Ezra felt no need to introduce incorrect information to his superior, hardly qualified as the same conduct.

Growing disgusted with the ineffectual glare he was leveling at the opening in front of him, Ezra tore his gaze away with a disgusted sigh. Back to the offensive article in front of him.

Glare tightening on the large t adorning the word 'tantrum' in the center of the paper, Ezra wished his eyes could burn right through the profiler's scrawl. He harrumphed loudly. Perhaps waiting until they had exhausted the information gathering they could do prior to his inclusion in Trier's twisted little inner circle of frat boys turned gangster, until all their probes had returned, was the wiser course of action. Certainly, Josiah was not inaccurate when he said Chris would not expect them to deviate from the agreed upon schedule and that when informed might react negatively.

But at what cost would that come? The man's lecherous and appalling behavior in his own office had had Ezra wishing it were legal to arrest someone for being a cad, now that they had proof that their most vile suspicions of what his money laundering was covering up were correct he saw no reason to not move immediately.

Aware of Josiah's heavy tread approaching, Ezra picked up the pen and loosely held it above the middle of the paper. Good enough if he merely poked his head in, but if his plans were otherwise a lecture would soon be ringing in his ears.

Alas, there was no escaping from destiny. Mr. Sanchez's footsteps drew nearer, and he did not merely peek his head into the room on his way to the facilities, or anywhere else that suited Ezra better than the break room he was currently confined too. No, he turned the corner and marched in, face stern and growing sterner as he drew close enough to see the still empty papers in front of Ezra. "And then, the wolves came," Ezra muttered, staring hard at the table while he awaited his fate.

Josiah's hand settled on the edge of his paper, giving a little tug to move it out from under Ezra's still posed hand and turning it towards him. "I believe I asked you to do something before I left the room." His voice was a growl of wearied patience and Ezra fought a scowl, as frankly Josiah was wearing on his last nerve as well. Not that he was about to tell the currently impatient profiler that.

Instead, Ezra gave Josiah his best, 'oh dear me,' look, one he generally avoided as it reminded him of his mother, and returned, "Pardon mah forgetfulness, Mr. Sanchez. Ah'm afraid the task you set before me had simply fled mah mind."

Josiah looked away, having to hide a grin, that, while not entirely a nice grin, and possibly indicating Josiah was contemplating the temporary joy he might feel upon chucking Ezra out the window before he remembered that they were not on the first floor, was still a grin and therefore a small victory for Ezra. "Really now? With the paper right there in front of you? That kind of forgetfulness might be a sign of something seriously wrong." Ezra fought a scowl as Josiah played along, the satisfied tone lurking underneath the man's 'concern' telling Ezra he was about to have the carpet pulled out from under him. "Let me call Nathan, see what he has to say."

Josiah pulled his phone out of his pocket while Ezra racked his brain for a solution to this dilemma that he really should have anticipated before he opened his mouth.

Nathan was attending an inter-agency cooperation conference, was on a panel of specialists who straddled the lines of first responders, his record earning him the spot more than his recent tactical EMT certification. Moreover, Chris was attending as well, and the southerner was sure if he was within 100 yards of Nathan when the story was relayed his supernatural bat ears would undoubtedly pick up on it.

And thus, I die, Ezra thought. The first man to suffer his demise over a telephone line.

If he already had the A.D.'s approval at least his future extinction would have been to some purpose.

Mr. Sanchez had unlocked the phone by now, and was making a meal out of dialing the number. The man was calling his bluff. Ezra was not about to fold this soon, but he could no more allow Josiah to make that call than he could do the other. "Surely, Mr. Sanchez-Josiah," if you couldn't hide a tell, use it to your advantage, "risking unsettling Nathan before his speaking occupation would be unwise."

Josiah paused with his fingers halfway through punching in the numbers, Ezra infinitely grateful that the man had never bothered to set up speed dial, and in a thoughtful tone said, "Ordinarily, I'd agree with you, son, but unexplained memory loss is the sort of thing Nathan would have even my hide for not telling him about."

Ezra fought a glare, not wanting to have to own up to a deception Josiah was already entirely aware of, and his annoyance at this entire affair and the extreme unreasonableness Mr. Sanchez was showing suddenly boiling over, he skipped right over it and went straight for renewing their initial argument. "It is ludicrous for us not to move in now with our recent uncovering of Trier's ultimate funding source. All it will take to ensure the brute's successful incarceration is a simple recording of his admitting to knowing how that money is raised; we'll have everything we need to move forward with the arrest."

Josiah's face, which had been stern and vaguely long-suffering, along with a trifle amused, snapped immediately to outright annoyance, "This is a man who's been successfully pretending to be a legitimate business man for nearly two decades. He's not going to take kindly to a brand new consultant poking in that direction at all. Remember, no matter how easy or tempting, entrapment is still illegal."

Josiah's eyebrow rose and Ezra's face flushed against his will. Before he could stop himself he'd snapped out, "That was a singular incident!"

"All of that's besides the point," Josiah plowed over Ezra, voice an exasperated growl, "as despite my considerable misgivings on whether this will be the easy wrap up you think it is, the only thing you've been told is to stick to the original plan-part of which is waiting until we aren't down three men!"

"Buc-"

"Is on light duty for another week because of his shoulder. He can't work a bust, and you know as well as I that if you do get that information out of Trier too soon there's a good chance he'll be on edge afterwards, might start destroying evidence. Or flee. Beef up his private security. We'll need to be able to move in immediately." Josiah said his words in that inexorable voice of his, the one that tended to be followed by shouting if you were bold enough to argue with it. "We're sticking to the plan. Not risking you or the case just for the chance to close this file a couple of weeks early."

Holding in a huff of disgust, at least for the moment, Ezra complained, "You act as though strategies are set in stone the moment they are agreed upon, as though it were some oracle declaring 'as the prophecy foretold' deciding each step, rather than the seven of us in the conference room going over files and comparing notes!"

Ezra observed Josiah sucking in a deep breath, almost hearing the calming mantra the man was no doubt chanting in his head. He was feeling contrary enough to almost enjoy that, but he was also well aware that he had pushed the profiler about as far as it was safe to push him. "Patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet."

Oh, joy. More philosophers. Not entirely sure if Josiah had been saying that to Ezra or to himself, Ezra had just opened his mouth to haphazard a response when he was cut off before he could start. "You act as though the time and effort put into our research and devising a game plan amounts to nothing and we should throw it all out and start again because of information we _always _expected to discover." Josiah wasn't just looking impatient or stern now, but disappointed, and Ezra felt it was decidedly unfair, how that look always seemed to trigger a surge of guilt in him. Even on occasions where Ezra was not the guilty party, seeing Josiah level that look on one of the others sometimes had him mentally biting his tongue against the urge to confess to whatever misdeeds he may have recently committed. "We worked on his profile together, son. It was your insight into how he decides who to trust that led to us sending you in as a consultant in the first place."

"Yes, but we no longer require-"

"Ezra-"

"Josiah, if you truly believe that the four of us cannot handle the arrest of a single portly pseudo-entrepreneur than Ah would have to suggest that it may be time for us to explore other avenues of employment. As tragic as that would-"

Josiah, who had been listening to Ezra's spiel with his face set and arms crossed, leaned down without breaking position and spoke directly into the younger man's face. "That's enough. You're going to shut up now. You're going to pick up your pen, write your lines and be grateful that I'm not doubling them." Ezra raised one eyebrow cooly, but Josiah simply plowed steadily on, "You aren't going to argue, or sulk, or insist on moving faster than is safe or wise on this case." So let it be written, so let it be done, Ezra thought sarcastically, Josiah's steel-gray eyes boring into him. The line from JD's favorite anime had never seemed so appropriate. "You won't, because if you do, I'm going to spank you."

Ezra scowled. Really, and here he had been expecting the man to throw him a parade. "Understand?" Josiah questioned. Truly, after his dedication it would be more suiting than this dressing down. Josiah's eyes were boring into him, and the Lord knew he had multitudes he wanted to say to the man. He also knew that nothing he said at this point would be civil and so bit his tongue. Josiah was still attempting patience, waiting for an answer to his query, but Ezra amused himself imagining what Josiah might look like as the leader of said parade.

A top hat would suit him, just like in that dream he vaguely remembered, though in that Josiah had also been sporting rabbit ears that stuck up through the top. "Ezra Standish, I'm expecting an answer from you."

He choked down the, 'Is it not obvious?' that wanted to come bursting out, trapping it behind his teeth until he could swallow the urge down. Then, reluctantly, still not dropping this, merely delaying his argument briefly, he moved his hand and picked up the accursed pen. Josiah relaxed almost immediately, a satisfied, if strained, smile coming to his face. "Wise words by wise men, write wise deeds in wise pens. Thank you, Ez-" Thoroughly annoyed by Josiah's pontification for reasons he didn't bother to examine, Ezra shifted his grip on the pen, held it out to his side, and dropped it without ceremony.

_*clink*_

Josiah stared at him. Ezra stared back, valiantly keeping the regret he felt crawling up from his toes off his face.

Josiah's face grew grim as the shock faded, and he intoned, like nothing so much as a reaper from old, "So, it has come to this?" He reached for Ezra without another word, as though he planned to bodily pull him over the table, Ezra pushing himself backwards just as quickly.

"Mr. Sanchez, Ah fear Ah may have allowed emotions," Ezra stood now as Josiah began making his way around the table and backed the other way, "to overpower mah wiser judgement." Josiah said nothing, just continued to close the distance between them, face set. The profiler's longer strides made it inevitable that Ezra would be caught, the younger man could see that, unless he broke and ran for it and he was not prepared to behave quite so ridiculously. "That said, is it truly so unreasonable that Ah wish, so to speak, to strike while the iron is hot? Trier is so close Ah can almost taste it." Walking backwards around a corner while speaking and keeping a close eye on an antagonist was not so difficult an operation as Ezra might have thought, until he went around the second one and caught a heel on a chair leg and Josiah was suddenly only a pace away. "Are you not always speaking of our brotherhood having a higher purpose? Is this why fate brought us together? To avoid serving justice and watch as evil men get rich off the pain of others? Or are we meant to fly in-" Ezra was cut off as Josiah's bear paw of a hand seized his shoulder, the next few seconds a confused blur of moving limbs as Josiah used his superior height and size to sit his bulk on the table and secure Ezra across his lap. Clearly expecting trouble, Josiah swiftly trapped Ezra's legs between his own, his middle jackknifed over a single sturdy thigh.

"Sometimes, Brother Ezra, I do think that keeping you from getting in over your head and in line is at least half the reason fate, or The Lord, or whatever power you want to attribute it to, brought us together. Your candle burns bright, Brother, and that's a good thing. But not when you rush into situations that might blow it out." Part of Ezra wanted to protest at the sentiment-good Lord, his candle wasn't about to be blown out-but he was also aware that the longer Josiah talked the longer before his palm began to be applied to Ezra's rather tense backside. "As for your stubborn insistence on moving forward now-the plan was always to wait until not just when Trier invited you on one of his weekend expeditions, but to wait until you came back from one. Period. I know you think the man is a grade A moron, and you're not wrong, but you also know how set he is in his ways."

"Ah've become very familiar with his insistence on discussing the same tired business theories, harassing the same intimidated women, and eating at the same overpriced and overhyped 'gourmet' cafe, even though he orders the BLT, an item not actually on their menu, for every meal," Ezra grouched, fighting the undignified urge to squirm now that he'd been caught. "Ah can also assure you that the man thinks Ah walk on water, and will not find a single question Ah would ask suspicious. After all, Ah am his consultant and therefore likely to want to be advised in as many areas of his business as possible."

Josiah snorted-_snorted_-at his perfectly sound argument, and didn't even bother to respond to it. "The answer is no, Ezra." After that he rapidly dismissed words altogether, instead choosing the much more pointed communication method of applying his palm firmly and rapidly to the seat of Ezra's Armani slacks-with no appreciation for the harm it was doing the fabric, thank you very much.

Not that Ezra, currently attempting to avoid squirming over Josiah's broad thigh, was about to voice such a complaint. No, he could imagine clearly the man's response to that. "You're merely being over protective," he had to break off to avoid letting out a hiss as a flurry of smacks landed low on his right cheek. "Mr. Larabee may be similarly inclined at times, but he understands the value of moving quickly when the opportunity avails itself." His attempt to smoothly finish his sentence could have gone better, as the continued assault on his backside made concentration a complicated task.

Was it possible for a human to have extra thick bones? Ezra would have to ask Nathan at a time when the astute man was less likely to guess why.

Josiah stopped after a back and forth volly that had him gasping, and let his hand rest prominently on Ezra's arse, his ragged breath suddenly much too loud in the quiet. "Is that so Ezra? In that case why don't I give you my phone and you can call him? Tell him how you want to move things forward and had already made the appointment to speak to AD Travis? After," Josiah's hand patted Ezra's backside in a rather threatening manner, "I had already made it clear that was a bad idea? How contacting him seemed, for some reason, to be the farthest thing from your mind?" Josiah's hand patted again. "My phone's just in my pocket, it won't be any problem to get it for you."

It wasn't, certainly, that Ezra hadn't anticipated that Josiah might respond in such a way. He had. Yet, when your ass was stinging like fire and only bound to flame stronger coming up with clever responses was a more gargantuan task than normal.

Presenting Mr. Larabee with the fait accompli of the wrapped up case, or, more realistically, the news that they were making the arrest now with A.D. Travis's knowledge and approval, was one matter. This, particularly the fact that he was bent over Josiah's knee at the moment, was certainly not at all what he had pictured.

"I didn't think so. Because you know damn well that the no I gave you is just what Chris would've said too." That begged even more for a response, however foolish, but Ezra was kept far too occupied to worry about it not more than ten seconds later, as Josiah's hand once more rained down, scorching him thoroughly from the top of each cheek to the first few inches of thigh.

Then, abruptly, he stopped. Unlike before the leg pinning his fell away, reappearing underneath as a support, and the hand wrapped around his waist moved to rub lightly at his back.

Ezra would have attempted to leave the man's lap, no doubt what Josiah expected him to do, but the relatively short length of his punishment had him certain of one horrible fact.

He would still be expected to complete those wretched lines.

No more than three minutes later his prediction came true, Ezra attempting to perch gingerly on a chair that truly required padding as Josiah gave him a final, ominous sounding warning that, "Half that page will be filled by the next time I come in." Less of a warning and more of a declaration of a fact. Not at _all _intimidating.

Picking up the pen, Ezra briefly entertained the idea of writing a single, immense line that would, of course, entirely fulfill Mr. Sanchez's requirements of filling half a page. Then, shifting slightly and wincing as he was reminded why that would be a foolish caper, Ezra heaved a put upon sigh and set pen to paper.

Before he was halfway through his second line his phone buzzed in his pocket. Not his personal phone, and if it had been making the decision to ignore it would have been relatively easy; it might have been Nadine, a charming lady who he'd exchanged numbers with after they'd been seated next to each other at the theater, but it also might have been Mother. Or Mr. Larabee, who had a horrible way of knowing when Ezra had crossed his invisible lines without being informed.

But this was the phone he used to communicate with Trier, and Ezra didn't hesitate once he'd processed that. Despite knowing it was a text he felt himself slipping slightly into the cool, playboy mindset he wore when he was Conroy Quinn as he unlocked the phone. A smile unfolded its way over his mouth as he saw the message. '_This weekend, my cabin._' Not exactly an invitation, more of an order, but you couldn't expect proper manners out of a nob of Trier's caliber.

Sticking his phone back in his pocket after the obligatory affirmative, Ezra grimaced as he stared down at the still mostly blank page in front of him. He doubted Josiah would listen if Ezra were to inform him that he no longer had to worry about his going to A.D. Travis, or pushing forward without everything checked off the list. At this point it truly wouldn't gain him any significant advantages, a day or two perhaps.

Though, waiting until after the weekend rendezvous seemed fruitless as well, and if he came back with the recording as a sort of advanced planning exercise, surely…

Ezra's backside gave another twinge, and he shook his head and once again picked up the pen. Perhaps it might be wiser to wait after all.


End file.
